Posts Tagged ‘Reviews’

The Noir Musical, A Fairy Godfather With a Cigar and More

Tuesday, March 25th, 2025

My last several Update/blogs have been to promote this and that of mine. Plus, I was deep in the writing of a screenplay and couldn’t come up for much air. You deserve better.

On my plate this week, among other things, is doing a commentary track with Heath Holland of Cereal at Midnight for the 1932 western, Law and Order, from a W.R. Burnett novel about Wyatt Earp. I’m also doing a podcast with my old buddy Matthew Clemens, and have several business calls on Zoom.

So there will likely be some follow-up on some or all of that here next week. What now, then? Well, the questions I continue to be asked most often are (a) what have you read lately, and (b) what have you seen?

As for what I’ve read, the two most current books are:

Barnaby Volume 5

Barnaby Volume 5 () from Fantagraphics, the final volume of the complete daily strips of this classic, too little-known comic strip, which (with Dick Tracy, Li’l Abner and Terry and The Pirates) is among my top favorites. Written and drawn (sometimes with Jack Morley’s help on art) by the great children’s book author, Crockett Johnson (Harold and the Purple Crayon), Barnaby is a deceptively simple strip of the ‘40s and early ‘50s that details the whimsical adventures of a five-year-old boy (Barnaby) and his Fairy Godfather (Mr. O’Malley). O’Malley is just as short as the child Barnaby and is a pleasantly pompous little pixie who looks like a middle-aged man with a fedora and, of course, pink wings.

Barbaby’s parents are distressed by their little boy’s insistence that his Fairy Godfather is real. A lot of the gentle humor comes from the reality of Barnaby’s opinion on this matter being true. Mr. O’Malley frequently almost meets one or both parents, and that becomes the chief running gag of the strip. The other is Mr. O’Malley’s cheerful incompetence, his magic wand (a cigar) frequently accomplishing nothing at all.

O’Malley’s friends and associates are fellow pixies and supernatural types, like Gus the Ghost, who wears glasses and is easily spooked; Atlas the Mental Giant (also no taller than Barnaby), McSnoyd the Invisible Leprechaun (who speaks in a Brooklyn accent); Barnbaby’s talking dog Gorgon (who never speaks around Barnaby’s parents); and many more. Johnson’s “clear line cartooning” is the most deceptively simple aspect of all: oddly elegant, beautifully understated, and unmistakably Crockett.

In this final volume, Barnaby turns six and must say farewell to Mr. O’Malley. It’s a sad moment, bittersweet but just another day in the life of a Fairy Godfather, who is definitely not imaginary and as real as anybody in the comic strip canon.

Round in Circles: The Story of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Carousel

Round in Circles: The Story of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Carousel () by Barry Kester takes an in-depth look at one of the greatest musicals ever written, and in my view (and that of many) the finest work by Rodgers (music) and Hammerstein (book and lyrics). From the 1901 play Liliom by Ferenc Molnar, fairly faithful but with a much less dark conclusion, Carousel focuses on the sudden romance between a carnival barker and a young mill worker lass; the latter’s friends in a New England fishing community provide a backdrop and counterpoint.

It’s most overtly noir musical I can think of, with its emphasis on crime and its tortured central lovers. Modern audiences – or at least those mounting this great work of art for those audiences – have problems with the thematic content of the play. Billy Bigelow is a roustabout roughneck who has, at least on one occasion, “hit” (probably slapped) his gentle wife, who puts up with her husband’s jobless state and foul temper. In modern terms, this is viewed as an abusive relationship, and Round in Circles explores that subject thoroughly and well. Author Kester makes the point that the year the play was produced (1945) was toward the end of the Second World War, when men were starting to return from combat in a traumatized state and sometimes had difficulty into getting back into a peacetime grove. Some brought violence home with them. This is probably why audiences of the day had little if any problem with the overstated “wife-beating” aspect of the narrative.

Today, people are liable to read in contemporary values and beliefs, and somehow ignore the tragic aspects of the story, growing from flaws in both characters, the volatile Billy and the passive Julie. But Oscar Hammerstein knew what he needed to do with this tragedy. In both Liliom and Carousel, the roughneck gets a chance to redeem himself by getting another day – a single day – back on earth. Liliom is the story of man who blows his chance to redeem himself; Carousel is about a man who does, ultimately, in the nick of time redeem himself.

The film version is often dismissed, but it has rewards; and the play itself appears to be a major influence on It’s A Wonderful Life with its angelic conceits.

Additionally, the play has some of the most beautiful words and music ever written for the musical stage – from “The Carousel Waltz” to “If I Loved You” and finally “You’ll Never Walk Alone,” few scores rival it.

Carousel has a particular resonance for me. My father, in the early 1950s, when he was a high school music teacher, mounted the first high school production of Carousel. I was very young but I was spellbound – my father had a working carousel on stage for the opening of the show! Amazing. What a showman my pop was – imagine getting a wonderful performance in a play this difficult from a bunch of high school kids in the early fifties. And as I witnessed my dad’s hometown triumph, those beautiful songs crept into my brain and made a permanent home there.

If you are interested in musical theater at all, Carousel is the ultimate noir musical, and Barry Kester’s Round in Circles does it justice.

Here’s what Barb and I (and sometimes Nate) have been watching (some of these remarks will be brief):

Black Bag – a solid, well-acted espionage tale in the John Le Carre vein, starring Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender, directed by Steven Soderbergh and written by David Koepp. This we saw at a theater.

Zero Day – a good but not great six-part mini-series starring Robert De Niro as a former president recruited from retirement to head up a commission into a devastating cyber- attack. Netflix.

Reacher Season 3 – a meat-and-potatoes series with a fine central performance by Alan Ritchson. The weakest of the three seasons so far, and at times painfully predictable and occasionally plot-hole-riddled, it’s nonetheless a fun watch. Amazon Prime.

Paradise – somewhat overrated but with a brilliant seventh (of eight) episodes. I just wish every character wouldn’t have a monologue about their back story delivered to some other character. I am interested to see where they go next, because the series seems to have painted itself into a corner. Hulu.

Adolescence – a four-episode limited British series that is one of the best things I’ve seen in years. Be forewarned: it’s harrowing, not so much for on-screen violence (which is limited) but for emotional impact. A young teen is accused of murder and we follow from the procedural end through the impact on the parents. Remarkable in approach, every episode is shot in a single unbroken take; how this was accomplished required a degree of difficulty I can barely imagine. The third episode, the least flashy in filmmaking terms, is a masterpiece thanks to the performances of Erin Doherty as psychologist Briony Ariston and Owen Cooper as young accused murderer Jamie meeting at a youth detention facility to prepare a pre-trial report on his mental health. Netflix.

The Thief of Bagdad – This 1924 film starring Douglas Fairbanks is one of the greatest fantasy films of all time. Barb loves silent movies and this one is terrific, with a wonderful orchestral score. The effects are mind-boggling. Eureka! Home Video.

Mission: ImpossibleDead Reckoning Part One – We decided to revist this before Part Two (no longer labelled that way) comes out. Underrated on its release, with an A-1 “bad guy” that seems more current now than when the film came out, this entry in the long-running series is a succession of over-the-top (in a good way) action sequences, often hilarious in their shameless excess. Paramount Home Video.

The Golden Buddha – From the boxed set Super Spies and Secret Lies, this is an Asian James Bond-era knock-off with eye-popping art direction and an amusing storyline anticipating Austin Powers. My son Nate and I watch one or two Asian movies every week, seldom artistic masterpieces but great fun. Eureka! Home video.

The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie – We went with the (nearly) entire family to this one at the local theater, and it’s a blast – traditional animation that seemed more Ren & Stimpy than Warner Bros, but I was fine with that. Word is this was dumped by Warner’s (as was a Road Runner/Wile E. Coyote movie) and that’s a disgrace. Very funny.

Okay that’s what I’ve been reading and watching. It’s an eclectic bunch of stuff, but that’s how we roll around here. I don’t read as much fiction as I once did – particularly not mysteries – but I take in a lot of physical media and streaming shows/movies. It’s how I relax and put fuel in the boiler.

There’s a lot to dislike on TV and on the movie screen these days, but plenty’s still out there to enjoy.

* * *

This very nice, smart review popped up this week at Do Some Damage – it’s detailed and (to me) gratifying. I happen to think the two Krista Larsen books are top-notch Collins, but I got a lot of heat from some reviewers (mostly in the UK) and, frankly, from my Thomas & Mercer editor. The big complaint was too much clothing description, something that goes unremarked upon in this extended lovely review. I had hoped to do at least a third Krista novel, but Thomas & Mercer wasn’t interested. It is, admittedly, the only book of mine there that hasn’t “earned out” yet; but in my defense they’ve given that title zero support.

If you haven’t read Girl Most Likely, check out this review.

This is a very good article on Road to Perdition as a comic book movie that is also a masterpiece. Oddly, neither I nor Richard Piers Rayner are mentioned. But it’s nice,
just the same.

* * *

We have been getting complaints from a handful of you fine folks that the link to this page from Facebook listings doesn’t always work. We (that is, son Nate) are (is) looking into it.

For those of you who can get here, we will have a book giveaway next week.

True Noir Poster

In the meantime, True Noir: The Assassination of Mayor Cermak is winding down – the last couple of the ten episodes will drop any moment now. Director Robert Meyer Burnett continues to do a great job.

If you order now, at least the first eight of ten episodes are available. Episode eight is, as Rob would say, “a banger.”

And this just in!

M.A.C.

Video Interviews and Ruminations of AI Replacing Me

Tuesday, February 11th, 2025

Blue Christmas will be available on Tubi (free, but probably with commercials) starting March 10. I realize it’s not the Christmas season right now, but March is my birthday month, so help celebrate by watching our little mostly-well-reviewed “chamber piece” on Tubi.

* * *

This week is a hodgepodge of videos, starting with (in my biased opinion) a particularly good interview by Andrew Sumner of Titan Books with yrs truly, talking about the forthcoming final Mike Hammer novel (Baby, It’s Murder), the new Ms. Tree archival edition (the final of six), my Sam Spade sequel The Return of the Maltese Falcon (due out Jan. 2026), and much more.

Here is the great Michael Rosenbaum (Nathan Heller in True Noir) seeing the promo poster of our immersive ten-part adapation of True Detective for the first time.

For the heartiest souls among you – or those desperate to fill the empty hours – here is my three-hour-plus (!) appearance on Rob Burnett’s (and Dieter Bastion’s) Let’s Get Physical Media. I am prettier (marginally) in real life.

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Here, from stalwart reviewer (and fiction writer) Ron Fortier is a review of the latest Quarry novel.

QUARRY’S RETURN
By Max Allan Collins
Hard Case Crime
213 pgs

One has to wonder at the twists and turns of fate when a writer of the baby-boomer generation (post World War II for you youngsters) is still writing about a hired gun well into his seventies. That’s Quarry, one of three series Collins whipped up a long…long…long time ago. That it is still around, never mind getting better like aged bourbon, is no small literary feat. Our best guess as to why; two things. One, Collins is such a damn good writer and two, his loyal readers know it and aren’t going anywhere.

In his last novel featuring his Quarry tale, Collins introduced his Vietnam veteran protagonist to the adult daughter he’d never known. After an awkward start, filial emotions rose to the surface when they were forced to save each other’s lives from some very bad people. In this follow up tale, Quarry learns Susan, his crime-writer daughter, has disappeared while doing research on a serial killer. This he learns from an old lover-colleague, a beautiful Japanese gal named Lu; his equal in death-dealing. The two of them make Bonnie and Clyde look like Hansel and Gretel.

It becomes obvious that Susan has run afoul of the very fiend behind the so-called Cheerleader Murders she is investigating. Unless Quarry and Lu can find her quickly, Susan will become the killer’s fourth victim. Collins weaves a fast-paced tale as his wonderfully mature couple question and shoot their way through a twisted puzzle, each well aware that the stamina and zeal of their youth exist only in melancholy backward glances.

Quarry’s Return continues the quality of this series offering up both the drama and action we’ve come to expect from a master storyteller now at the height of his craft. Oh, if only more writers weren’t afraid of growing old.

* * *

What does A.I. think of me?

My buddy Rob Burnett asked ChatGPT to roast me, and this is what he got:

Max Allan Collins? Oh, you mean the guy who spends his days trying to convince people he wrote Road to Perdition before the movie made it cool? The man has more tie-in novels under his belt than original ideas. If there’s a movie, TV show, or video game with a plot, chances are he’s already turned it into a book before you even realized it existed.

Don’t get me wrong, the guy knows his way around a crime story, but let’s be honest – his bibliography reads like the novelization section at a Blockbuster in 1999. He’s basically the literary version of that friend who just retells movie plots but insists they’re adding depth.

And let’s talk about Road to Perdition. Everyone remembers the film – you know, Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Sam Mendes’ stunning cinematography? But Collins? He’s like that one guy in the back of a concert yelling, “I wrote the original song, man!” while everyone’s there for the band that made it famous.

Look, he’s a workhorse, I’ll give him that, but maybe if he spent a little less time cashing in on other people’s intellectual properties, he’d be known as more than “that dude who did all the licensed tie-ins.”

That chatGPT request was for a roast of me as author of Road to Perdition. This one left Road to Perdition out of the search request.

Alright, let’s talk about Max Allan Collins – the guy who never met a tie-in novel he didn’t like. This man has churned out more franchise cash grabs than Hollywood itself, and somehow, he still wants us to believe he’s a “hard-boiled” crime writer. Yeah, sure, buddy – nothing screams noir like novelizing CSI episodes.

Collins has spent his career clinging to Mickey Spillane’s coattails so hard that he’s practically a ghostwriter for a ghost. The guy inherited unfinished Mike Hammer manuscripts like some kind of pulp fiction trust fund baby and has been playing Weekend at Bernie’s with Spillane’s legacy ever since. And let’s not forget Road to Perdition — a graphic novel that somehow got a brilliant film adaptation that made people think he’s on the same level as classic crime writers. Spoiler: He’s not.

Is he prolific? Absolutely. But so is a fax machine. If crime fiction had a direct-to-video section, Collins would be its king.

Next Rob asked ChatGPT to praise me. Here’s what he got:

Max Allan Collins is one of the most prolific and versatile crime writers of his generation, seamlessly blending historical research, sharp storytelling, and a deep love for the noir tradition. His Road to Perdition graphic novel became an Oscar-winning film, proving his talent for crafting compelling narratives with rich emotional depth.

Collins’ dedication to the hard-boiled genre extends beyond his own work – he’s kept the legacy of Mickey Spillane alive by completing unfinished Mike Hammer manuscripts with remarkable authenticity. His Nathan Heller series is a masterclass in historical crime fiction, blending real-life mysteries with gripping detective work.

Beyond novels, Collins has left his mark across multiple mediums – comics, television tie-ins, and even film – demonstrating a storytelling range few can match. Whether he’s penning a hard-hitting detective tale or a media tie-in, he brings professionalism and an unmistakable voice to everything he touches.

Next Rob, at my request, asked about “Barbara Allan.”

Here’s the roast:

Barbara Allan – aka the dynamic duo of Barbara and Max Allan Collins – has mastered the fine art of writing cozy mysteries that are as outrageous as a yard sale gone horribly wrong. The Trash ‘n’ Treasures series? More like Clutter ‘n’ Chaos! The books are packed with enough quirky characters, eccentric antiques, and over-the-top antics to make even the most dedicated cozy mystery reader question their life choices.

The mother-daughter sleuthing team, Brandy and Vivian, are basically the literary equivalent of Lucy and Ethel if they were trapped in an endless loop of small-town mayhem and garage-sale drama. Vivian, in particular, is a force of nature – a character so hilariously unhinged that she could probably solve crimes just by talking the suspects into confessing out of sheer exhaustion.

And let’s not forget the narrative style – breaking the fourth wall, footnotes, and asides that sometimes make you feel like you’ve stumbled into a mystery novel with an identity crisis. Is it a whodunit? A stand-up comedy routine? A fever dream about hoarding? Who knows!

But despite all the chaos, you have to give Barbara Allan credit – somehow, these books keep readers coming back for more. Maybe it’s the humor, maybe it’s the charm, or maybe it’s just the literary equivalent of watching a reality show where you can’t look away. Either way, the Trash ‘n’ Treasures series is a wild ride, whether you love it or love to roll your eyes at it.

That’s the roast, but Barb and I both pretty much agree with it and find it oddly complimentary. I guess it goes to show there’s less negative stuff about Barbara Allan out there on the Internet for chatGPT to draw upon.

Here’s the Barbara Allan praise from chatGPT:

Barbara Allan is a talented and acclaimed author, best known for her delightful and witty “Trash ‘n’ Treasures” mystery series. The writing duo behind the pseudonym – Barbara and Max Allan Collins – crafts engaging, humorous, and cleverly plotted cozy mysteries that keep readers entertained while delivering sharp social observations. Their knack for blending humor, crime, and quirky characters makes their work a standout in the genre.

Allan’s ability to create compelling narratives with charmingly eccentric protagonists, particularly Brandy Borne and her mother, Vivian, showcases a keen sense of humor and an impressive storytelling skill. The lighthearted yet intriguing mysteries, often infused with a touch of satire, offer a refreshing take on the cozy mystery genre. Fans appreciate the dynamic character relationships, lively dialogue, and the seamless way the authors weave suspense with humor.

Barbara Allan’s contributions to the mystery genre continue to be celebrated by devoted readers who eagerly anticipate each new installment. Whether you’re a longtime fan or a newcomer, her books are sure to entertain and delight!

Besides giving Barb and me (and Rob) a giddy good laugh over all of this, what to make of it? To me it shows that AI can give you anything but something of actual substance, coming from a real-life human being with human experiences to draw upon. It also hints at the nature of reviews and criticism – that the same work can engender wildly different takes (although Barbara Allan seems pretty popular with everybody!).

I am of the opinion that AI will never be able to truly approximate someone’s writing (say, ask chatGPT to write a Mike Hammer novel by Mickey Spillane) when it’s (no matter how sophisticated) a soulless summary of things actual humans have thought and felt. This is related to “garbage in, garbage out,” but AI won’t draw upon garbage, or even churn garbage out. It can cobble something together from the works of a writer based only on existing work, not new work informed by human experience.

Not only are the words borrowed, so are the attitudes that shaped those words. Nor is it likely (to my way of thinking anyway) that AI will ever be able to write a “new” Max Allan Collins book (for example) because it will not be able to deal with the growth and shifts and, yes, decline of a creative person.

Or, as chatGPT had to say on this subject:

AI can be an excellent tool for assisting writers, offering suggestions, or even generating basic plot ideas, but it lacks the deeper emotional, cultural, and philosophical grounding that human creativity provides.

Fiction writing isn’t just about stringing words together – it’s about creating meaning, evoking emotions, and offering unique perspectives, all of which are rooted in the lived experience of being human. AI can simulate creativity, but it can’t be creative in the same way a human can.

Finally, I asked chatGPT to create an approximately 1000-word example of my fiction writing. Here it is:

I leaned back in my chair, the smoke from my cigarette curling up toward the ceiling. The office was dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside casting long shadows across the room. It was the kind of night that made you question your choices, the kind of night that made you wonder if the world was as clean as it seemed.

The door creaked open, and she stepped in – a dame with legs that went on forever and a look that could melt steel. She had that air about her, the kind that said she was trouble, but the kind you couldn’t resist.

“Mr. Heller?” she asked, her voice a melody that didn’t quite match the storm in her eyes.

“That’s me,” I said, motioning to the chair across from my desk. “Have a seat.”

She hesitated for a moment, then sat down, crossing her legs. I noticed the faint tremor in her hands as she placed them on her lap.

“What’s the trouble?” I asked, leaning forward.

She took a deep breath, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something. “I need your help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “My husband is missing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Missing? Or just not where you want him to be?”

M.A.C.

Ms. Tree Gets Her Due

Tuesday, January 21st, 2025

Paperback: Bookshop Purchase Link
E-Book: Google Play

Paperback: Bookshop Purchase Link
E-Book: Google Play

At the Reading Is Fun, Not Mental website, “TL” wrote this terrific Ms. Tree – Heroine Withdrawal review, the fifth of the six Ms. Tree collections from Titan.

Ms. Tree – Heroine Withdrawal (The Fifth Ms. Tree Graphic Novel)

I can never get enough of Ms. Tree. Ever since I picked up that first issue of Ms. Tree’s Thrilling Detective Adventures (which I still love that title, even though I’m aware Ms. Tree’s creators do not – for me, it gave the book a pulp feel, which I think fit the character nicely), I’ve been hooked, and I was devastated when the series eventually ended after years at Eclipse, then Aardvark-Vanheim, then Renegade Press, and finally DC Comics. So, when Titan announced it would be collecting and reprinting the entire run, I was super-excited – sure, I had all the individual issues; but now I would have easy access to reading the stories again and again and again without having to dig through my comic boxes, unseal the bags, and pull out issue after issue to read them. Even though the collections are not telling the stories in order (they reprinted the ten DC issues first, then went back to the beginning to start with the Eclipse issues, before moving on to the AV and Renegade issues – and even those have been told somewhat out of order, collecting them by story relevance and not chronologically), I have absolutely loved curling up in my recliner and walking down memory lane with Ms. Tree, Dan, Effie, and the rest of the gang…

Ms. Tree: Heroine Withdrawal collects issues 18-27 and 29-31 (with the title having officially switched fully to Renegade Press by issue 19). These are some of my favorite issues, as they deal with Ms. Tree’s final confrontation with Dominic Muerta and the aftermath – as well as a two-part story that dealt with the topical issue of abortion. This is some of Max Allan Collins’ best writing in the series, as they give the readers a real sense of why Ms. Tree is who she is and why the world (well, her fictional world, anyway) needs a Ms. Tree in it. It’s also extremely character driving, as most of the series is anyway – but these issues in particular give readers a greater understanding of not just Ms. Tree, but also many of the supporting characters. Plus, we get our introduction to Dominique Muerta (gotta love Collins’ play on names in this series), who turns out to be a wonderful frenemy for our favorite gun-toting crime-fighter!

“Muerta Means Death,” the four-issue story that runs through issues 18, 19, 20, and 21, provides readers with a very satisfying conclusion to Ms. Tree’s vendetta against the man who had her husband killed. The title has a double meaning, since the word “muerta” is actually the Spanish word for “dead,” and at the same time, it refers to the fact that Dominic Muerta is a killer, and if you cross him, you die. I suppose it could also have a third meaning, since in the story, we learn Muerta has cancer and is on his death bed – and when Dan Green comes back to work (with a hook in place of the hand he lost in the explosion set by Muerta’s men in a previous story), he’s all set to take revenge on Muerta. It all gets confusing when Dan goes to Muerta’s house prepared to kill him – and when Ms. Tree and the police get there, they find Dan just waking up in the same room where Muerta and his nurse are both dead! Dan swears he did not do it, and Ms. Tree sets about proving his innocence. The story takes a few surprising twists, with the final one giving Ms. Tree the satisfaction she has been seeking – definitely a great read, and for astute readers (who have become accustomed to Collins’ playing with names), Muerta’s attorney, Dimitri A. Dopler, should give you a huge clue as to one of the biggest secrets in this story!

Following this big payoff, Collins gives readers a few shorter stories – the first being “Right to Die,” which addresses the issue of abortion and readers find out that Ms. Tree had an abortion when she was younger, an act she regrets now that Mike Tree is dead, and the only child she could have had with him is gone. The story addresses the issue without straying into preaching which side of the issue is “right” – instead, the story focuses on how various people deal with abortion and the doctors who perform the procedures. It has a sad ending, and let’s just say there are no real winners in this one – especially for Ms. Tree, as her actions in this story have serious repercussions…

Leading into the next two-parter, “Prisoner Cell Block Hell,” in which Ms. Tree does time in a women’s prison (with all the standard stereotypes you’d expect to see), and Ms. Tree has to face someone coming after her – after all, as the saying goes, the past always has a way of catching back up to you. After unveiling some very corrupt prison guards, Ms. Tree then gets transferred to a psychiatric facility in the two-part “Heroine Withdrawal.” For those who remember the very first Ms. Tree story in her own comic (after her origin in Eclipse Magazine), Ms. Tree has a reason to be wary of psychiatrists – and for good reason!. Only this time around, she manages to reveal the unscrupulous actions of a nurse and orderly, as well as a high-powered politician! And she makes a new friend who may or may not have been taken by aliens (let’s just say Collins leaves it up to the reader to decide at the end of the story…)

This collection concludes with the three-issue tale, “The Other Cheek,” which introduces us to a newly reformed Ms. Tree who has completed her psychiatric care and has decided to walk away from all of the violence, not even carrying a gun any more. This, of course, forces all of those who work with her – including Effie! – to step up their game, because when it comes to Ms. Tree, danger is never far away. It’s not until her stepson, Mike (named after his father), is kidnapped that Ms. Tree realizes she has no choice, and she throws off the new persona and steps back into the shoes she was made to fill – that of a female vigilante who fights for justice, and always wins! One thing I thought was a great choice for Beatty in this story (and I don’t know if it was his idea, or if Collins told him to do it), but I loved the fact that “reformed” Ms. Tree dressed so much differently – even wearing flower-print dresses! But when she goes back to her old self to rescue Mike, she once again dons that blue overcoat that give her such distinctive style! It makes for a nice visual aid to her change in character back and forth.

With only one more collection go to complete the reproduction of the entire run of Ms. Tree, I hope the sales on these collections have been such that Collins and Beatty will consider telling some more stories. With all of the controversies in the news today, they would literally have a plethora of topics to pick from to create some great tales! And who knows? Maybe they could even age the characters, so that Mike (her stepson) could be old enough to work along side her – what a story that would be! Any way you say it, we definitely need MORE MS. TREE!!!!!!

Rating: 10 old-fashioned dynamite bombs out of 10 for some truly dynamite story-telling, masterful twists and surprises, and some of the best artwork you will ever see in a comic! What more could you want?

When I read a review like this, two things come to mind: how wonderful! And, “Where were people like you when we were doing this title in the ‘80s and ‘90s”?

Terry Beatty and I began Ms. Tree as what we thought of as an exercise in coherence. Comic-book art was getting very complex and even impenetrable, and I wanted to return to the EC-style Johnny Craig school (derived from classic comic strips, chiefly by Milton Caniff) and Terry was wholeheartedly on board.

We’d been invited by Dean Mullaney to be part of his Eclipse magazine, which had a lot of top comics creators contributing new potential series. Also included in the mix were Terry and me. While Terry and I had done several projects together, we were only in this heady company because Dean was a Dick Tracy fan and I’d attracted some nice attention in the field when I took over the writing of that strip from creator Chester Gould in December 1977.

My basic concept was “Velda and Mike Hammer finally get married, and Hammer gets murdered on their wedding night and Velda takes over the PI agency…and seeks revenge.” I believe I pitched it off the top of my head when the surprise phone-call invitation came from Dean.

Another surprising thing happened after that: we were the dark-horse hit of the magazine and got spun off into our own comic book. Thanks to Dean, and later Dave Sim, Deni Loubert and Mike Gold, we continued through four publishers, ultimately DC. We had several movie options, and I did a little indie film, Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market, based on a Ms. Tree prose story of mine, although we were in the midst of a movie option at the time and I had to change Ms. Tree’s name. But the character Brinke Stevens played was as close, to date, of Ms. Tree coming to life on screen. Brinke did a great job on our $10,000 (!) movie, which got national distribution (okay, Troma, but that counts).

The glowing review I share here does not reflect the critical response to Ms. Tree back in the day. A lot of folks, including some who liked our comic book series, thought we were crazy doing a crime/mystery comic book in a super-hero world. We probably were, but between me writing Dick Tracy (at the time) and my mystery novels, it made sense to us.

We did get our share of nice notices – we wouldn’t have survived so long if we hadn’t – but we were singled out for withering criticism from some, particularly the Fantagraphics crowd. That got nasty and rather acid on both sides, because Terry and I were both stupid enough to take Gary Groth and company on. It was a no-win situation, and a study of what a suicide note it is to respond to criticism. (Doing so is something I try desperately to avoid, but I still occasionally, misguidedly do. I should not. I hope at this age and stage I have finally learned that lesson.)


Terry Beatty and Max Allan Collins at San Diego Comic Con 1982 (with Cat Yronwode; photo by Alan Light)

Terry and I were a team for a long time. We did Wild Dog as a mini-series followed by a serialized run in Action Comics and one fat little one-shot. We put together a Johnny Dynamite mini-series (collected as a graphic novel) for Dark Horse. And finally I brought Terry into the Road to Perdition fold with the DC graphic novel, Return to Perdition.

During our team-up time, Terry and I had many failed projects, most of them having to do with pitching comic strips to my then-bosses at the Chicago Tribune Syndicate. Our “Comics Page” that we self-syndicated to weekly shoppers was a good idea whose time never came (it ran a struggling year or so).

We also pitched a retro version of Batman to DC that was rejected but (somewhat ironically) was close to what would soon be done on Batman: The Animated Series. I say somewhat ironically because Terry went on be one of the Eisner Award-winning artists on the comic book series inspired by that show. I also worked on Batman, too, mostly a disastrous year-long experience on the monthly comic, although my work on the syndicated comic strip (I was forced off by the Chicago Tribune Syndicate after the first story) and the graphic novel Batman: Child of Dreams (from Kia Asimiya’s manga) were better received by readers and, well, me.

Still, that Terry and I were both on Batman but never together is another unfortunate irony. We did get do Wild Dog for DC, which generated a character featured on the Arrow TV show (which I never bothered to watch) (and had to complain to get paid).

Another irony is that Terry and I both wound up doing something apart that we’d long tried to do together. When Dick Tracy artist Rick Fletcher passed away, I tried to get the Tribune syndicate to use Terry as my artist. They turned him down, despite samples that pleased me very much. And we suggested, and submitted samples (initially well-received), for a reboot of the Little Orphan Annie comic strip, taking advantage of the Broadway show’s success. We were ultimately turned down, but the great Leonard Starr was enlisted to do the re-boot we’d suggested.

So when “TL” above suggests Terry and I should do more Ms. Tree, the irony (there’s that word again) is that Terry is now too busy as he’s a successful writer/artist in the syndicated comic strip field. After a run on The Phantom Sunday page, Terry moved over to handling the Rex Morgan, MD, comic strip, where he has done and is doing a fine job.

Prior to that we’d kicked around reviving Ms. Tree. It was what held up the Titan archival reprint series of the original comics – we wanted to launch that reprint series with a new graphic novel. But that never came together, although I did some preliminary work.

The silver lining here is that Titan – thank you Nick Landau and Vivian Cheung – has collected the more-or-less complete Ms. Tree in six beautifully produced volumes, in all their color and two-color glory (a long run of Ms. Tree employed one color in various shades, to create a noir feel…and save money). I say “more or less” because a few odds-and-ends haven’t been gathered in these books, and those leftovers weren’t sufficient for another volume to be produced.

I haven’t talked about it here, at least not very much, but getting the complete run gathered in archival volumes, with Terry very much supervising, has been a goal I’ve long hoped Ms. Tree could reach. Terry and I put a great deal of hard work and love for the genre into Ms. Tree, for over a decade, and now it exists in more enduring format.

I will add that someone recently wrote in to my pal Robert Meyer Burnett on his fine YouTube show, Robservations, that someone should do a graphic-novel version of our Nathan Heller audio series, True Noir (based on Heller’s debut, True Detective. The talent suggested for the job (not by Rob!) were current crime-comics favorites, like Ed Brubaker. Nothing against Ed, but I think I could put any interested publisher in touch the (wait for it) writer of a fairly well-regarded graphic novel, Road to Perdition.

M.A.C.

Movies Vs. Books and Collaboration

Tuesday, January 7th, 2025

I know I said I wouldn’t be talking about Blue Christmas again till next holiday season, but apparently I lied. My defense is that I hadn’t seen the nice review we got from one of my favorite magazines, Videoscope, written by editor Nancy Naglin herself. It’s on the stands now.

Videoscope Winter 2025 cover

Videoscope Winter 2025 Blue Christmas Review

Nancy really seems to “get” our little movie, and it’s another of the overwhelmingly favorable reviews Blue Christmas has received, despite a handful of lumps of coal in our stocking. I should (or anyway will) mention that her observation of there being a sentimental aspect to the film is valid and whether that’s a bad or good thing reflects the way mileage can vary (as they say) among audience members. I like to think of it as “sentiment,” though, and not “sentimentality.”

I have a vivid memory of my late filmmaking friend Steve Henke commenting to the effect of, “Max does something wonderfully nasty overall and then ends with something sentimental and there’s nothing that can be done about it.”

Steve was a grizzled, gruff but fantastic collaborator who I once had to bail out of jail while a production was going. At risk of insulting his memory by getting sentimental, I will say his absence from the planet is one of the things that kept me from getting back into indie filmmaking for close to twenty years. Another collaborator I miss to a painful degree is actor Mike Cornelison, who starred in Mommy, Mommy’s Day, Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market, and Eliot Ness: An Untouchable Life, and who narrated both Caveman: V.T. Hamlin and Alley Oop and Mike Hammer’s Mickey Spillane.

The recent (and not officially released as yet) Death By Fruitcake is the only movie I’ve made recently that did not include any veterans from those earlier indie days. With the exception of my close pal and collaborator Phil Dingeldein, who was d.p. on Blue Christmas, the same was true of that production. (A notable exception on Fruitcake is the great Paula Sands, who appeared as herself in Mommy’s Day and as Vivian Borne in Fruitcake.)

There’s a moment in Mommy when Mrs. Sterling, who’s been committing murders, is about to book it out of town with her daughter Jessica Ann when the little girl complains about having to leave all her friends behind. To which Mommy replies, “You’ll make wonderful new friends, dear.”

And that’s true of both Blue Christmas and Death By Fruitcake (and Mickey Spillane’s Encore for Murder), which added a wonderful new raft of collaborators to my life, with a special nod to the versatile d.p./editor/producer Chad Bishop.

Collaboration has been an important part of my professional writing career, although at the heart of that career was my desire to control my work, to be in charge. I feared – with justification – that my personality and approach made taking the tempting path to Hollywood unwise. I made the decision to stay put – in Iowa – and just write my stories.

Not that writing fiction for a living doesn’t come with interference, but it’s minimal compared to what happens in the world of movies and TV. Wrestling with an editor or copy editor now and then is nothing compared to the problems Hollywood presents – the way money controls your ability to tell a story, and the crap you have to put up with from those who provide that money; the way directors can rewrite and screw up a script; the many uncontrollable factors including miscasting and all the other slings and arrows of the craft; and most of all the difficulty of getting anything produced.

I watched one of the greatest mystery writers who ever lived, Donald E. Westlake, who won an Academy Award for the screenplay of The Grifters, write seemingly countless scripts that generated option money but ultimately went into a drawer.

Throughout even a moderately successful career like mine you are fairly sure that any novel you write, unless you really miss the mark, can find a publisher.

And yet.

Collaboration is something I instinctively seek out. For years I wrote strictly alone, but at the same time I was playing music in my rock ‘n’ roll bands The Daybreakers and Crusin’, which were overflowing with talented collaborators, a list too long to get into. We got into the Iowa Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame with both bands, and had a national record that, however absurd, became something of a cult classic. Those years of musical collaboration – 1966 through 2024 – were concurrent with my fiction-writing career.

The loneliness of telling lies for fun and profit, as Lawrence Block put it, was further minimized by my collaborations on the Dick Tracy comic strip with Rick Fletcher and Dick Locher. Those collaborations had some ups and downs, but my long partnership with cartoonist Terry Beatty, co-creator of Ms. Tree and Wild Dog, among much else, proved particularly rewarding.

The same can be said of Matthew V. Clemens, with whom I wrote something like thirty novels, including (but not limited to) the bestseller Supreme Justice and its two sequels, plus our very successful series of CSI tie-in novels.

During the Covid lockdown I got the opportunity to collaborate with an SCTV favorite of mine, Dave Thomas, on a novel you may not have read (but should): The Many Lives of Jimmy Leighton. This one seems little known but I’m really, really proud of it. It’s a crime thriller with a science-fiction slant.

Most recently I have collaborated with Robert Meyer Burnett on True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak, the ten-episode fully immersive audio production based on the first Nate Heller novel, True Detective. Rob directed an incredible cast incredibly well and this is also something I’m proud of. We haven’t got a Nathan Heller movie yet – Road to Perdition came close – but what Rob has created from my script is as good an example of effective collaboration as I can think of.

If any collaboration stands out, however, it has to be the one with my wife Barbara Collins – numerous short stories, a novella, two novels, and the Antiques series (aka The Trash ‘n’ Treasures mysteries), which are heading into their twentieth installment…there are more novels in that series than either Nate Heller or Quarry. To witness my smart, beautiful wife develop into a terrific writer is something I have experienced with great pride, often sitting on the sidelines, impressed. (And later this year I hope you’ll see just how well our Brandy and Vivian Borne have been transferred to the screen.)

Filmmaking is a special sort of collaboration, however, and on the indie level you don’t have the Hollywood baggage. It’s always been like going to summer camp for me (and I loved going to summer camp). I am well-aware that my skills as a filmmaker fall far less of what I like to think of as my mastery of fiction-writing, or even my years of playing rock ‘n’ roll for fun and money.

Being a competent film director, much less a good or great one, is one of the hardest trades that narrative storytelling can offer. I had no ambitions to be a film director – none. Never occurred to me. I wanted to write movies and have wonderful directors bring them to life. It’s happened now and then – Sam Mendes ain’t no slouch.

But mostly it doesn’t. Mostly scripts get written and wind up in a drawer, even if you’re Don Westlake…or Mickey Spillane, who had his heart broken by Hollywood and who died with several unproduced scripts among his papers (The Menace is a novel I fashioned from one of ‘em).

I became a director by necessity, when I had to take over Mommy after two weeks of a four-week shoot, which including reshooting much of what went before. When I completed the movie, worried that I hadn’t known what the hell I was doing, I binged on Alfred Hitchcock movies. Hitchcock is probably the greatest narrative storyteller in motion picture history. I kept watching those movies and being relieved when I saw Hitch doing things similar to what I had done (not talking about content here, but putting pieces of film together into an effective narrative – editing well, like in a novel but completely different).

I am well aware that I started too late to reach in film the level that my fiction-writing has, I think, achieved – writing fiction is a craft I started working at learning when I was in junior high and high school, sending novels to publishers who (thank God) kicked them back to me.

But I love movies as much as I love novels, in some ways more, and they ultimately yanked me in, like Michael Corleone in Godfather 3 (nobody seems to like that movie but everybody remembers that line, possibly second only to “An offer you can’t refuse” in the original film).

Filmmaking has an irresistible pull for me and many other sorry souls. Stephen King said it best, although I’m paraphrasing: “Movies are the most expensive, least efficient way of telling a story; but, unfortunately, also the coolest.”

Am I done with indie filmmaking? I’m still thinking, talking, hoping (Barb has had her fill). Several things are cooking, but the bigger ones probably need a director younger than me. If they stick to the script, I’ll be fine with that.

Which is the problem. My first produced script, The Expert, had a star who seemed to have read the script once and then tried to remember it, and a director who either walked off or was fired (I’ve never found out which) from the production late in the game. The Last Lullaby had a “co-writer” foisted on me who I never met and who rewrote my screenplay, though I did provide revisions that brought it back closer to what I had in mind. Still. I did one script for the Quarry series that got disassembled and spread between two episodes, stitched together like the Frankenstein Monster and about as attractive.

That kind of collaboration? I can do without.

And it’s why I made two micro-budget movies on my own terms.

* * *

Here’s a smart review of the sixth (and final) Titan collection of Ms. Tree.

This is a nice if brief YouTube piece on the writing of Road to Perdition, both graphic novel and film. It answers the question of who wrote which, but is unaware that a playwright friend of director Sam Mendes from the UK did an uncredited rewrite.

Here’s another piece on the film of Road to Perdition focusing on Tom Hanks (and somewhat on Daniel Craig).

The day this appears I will be working with Phil Dingedein at dphilms in Rock Island shooting the final episodes of History Behind the Mystery, each of which drops on YouTube in tandem with the episodes of True Noir.

M.A.C.